


Stamina

by Annebee



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Deputy Derek Hale, Derek is twenty four, First Time, Lacrosse, M/M, POV Stiles, Stiles Stilinski is Eighteen Years Old, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 06:05:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7088248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annebee/pseuds/Annebee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is surprised when Derek says he'll help him out with Lacrosse after Scott bailed on Stiles...again. Things get sweaty and it gets harder than ever before for Stiles and Derek to ignore the feelings bubbling under the surface.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stamina

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Whowaswillbe](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Whowaswillbe).



> Hi my dearest Glompee, I hope you'll like my little story. I took a little run with your prompt summary as I didn't involve a lot of manhandle, but I did mention Derek catching Stiles' scent quite some times. But let me just tell you, Derek loved getting Stiles all sweaty. ^^
> 
> Whowaswillbe , this one is for you! :)

Stiles aims the ball at the nearest tree. When the ball flies right past it – it didn’t even come close to the tree - he kicks at the leaves on the ground and throws his lacrosse stick away.

“Stupid lacrosse”, he mutters as he goes to pick up his stick and look for the ball. “Stupid Scott! Best Bro?” Stiles snorts. “My ass!”

He stomps through the leaves looking for the damn ball, muttering another string of curses at Scott’s behalf. Scott, his supposedly best friend, has bailed on him. _Again!_

“Looking for this?” Stiles suddenly hears. He whirls around, clutching his chest and holy Jesus Christ.

“Dude, Derek!” Derek merely raises an eyebrow, a tiny smirk playing around his lips. “You nearly gave me a heart attack! You ‘wolves should make some damn noise. Or wear a damn cowbell”, Stiles huffs as he snatches the ball out of Derek’s hand.

His dirty hand, Stiles notices. He steps back and takes a good look at the werewolf in front of him. Derek’s wearing an old pair of jeans, the colour has completely faded and it looks soft from all the times it’s been washed. He’s got a grey tank top on with dirt all over it. There’s even a smear of dirt on his shoulder.

Stiles tightens the grip on his lacrosse stick so he wouldn’t accidentally brush his hand over Derek’s shoulder to get rid of the dirt. And, well, to cop a feel at Derek’s muscular shoulder and arm.

“So watcha doing?” Stiles asks, distracting himself from the inappropriate thoughts Derek can probably smell all over him by now. Not to mention his heartrate kicking up the moment Derek appeared in his view, he does not need Derek hearing all that.

Derek points a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing at the renovated Hale house behind him.

“I was fixing up some things before I can start painting the place. Thought I’d do it before my shift at the station starts.”

Stiles nods, the place was a wreck and Derek – as their alpha – made them all help cleaning up the place as soon as there wasn’t an imminent threat on Beacon Hills anymore. They worked months on getting the place liveable again. The pack helping after school and during the weekends whenever they could and Derek working before and after his shifts at the Sheriff’s station.

Because that was a thing that had happened. Stiles’ dad had given Derek a job as a deputy, figuring Derek and his super sniffer and build-in lie detector would be a great asset to their team. So now it’s Deputy Hale. Which also means, Stiles has to deal with Derek parading around town in a uniform. As if Derek wasn’t hot enough before.

“Stiles?”

“Huh?” Stiles looks at Derek questioningly, realising he’d gotten lost in thought again.

Derek huffs a sigh, though it sounds more fond than annoyed.

“I asked what you were doing here.”

“Shooting bunnies. Pow pow”, Stiles rolls his eyes, holding up his lacrosse stick. “Derek, what does it look like I’m doing?”

Derek sighs again and now it definitely sounds annoyed. He doesn’t reply, just waits Stiles out. Stiles, in return, goes through a series of facial expressions, struggling to get his internal battle under control. He doesn’t want to rat Scott out to their alpha but on the other hand it’s not the first time Scott bailed on Stiles.

“I’m practising lacrosse”, Is what Stiles settles on.

“Alone?”

“Yep, I’m a big boy, I can do stuff alone, you know.”

“And that’s why you were muttering about Scott bailing on you?” Derek asks, crossing his arms over his chest, showing off an incredible nice set of biceps.

Stiles blows out some air, pursing his lips and shaking his head no before turning it into a definite nod of yes.

“Yes, Scott bailed on me again. So what, I’ll just sit on the bench for the rest of the season, I don’t care, it’s whatever.”

Stiles looks at the ground, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the dirt. When Derek says nothing, Stiles huffs.

“It sucks, okay. I just want to make first line once. There’s a charity game at the end of the season and I just want to be in it. I don’t have super strength or –“

“A good aim”, Derek cuts him off. Stiles glares at him before continuing.

“Or a good aim, but I just want to be part of the team. _On_ the field, not next to it. And I asked Scott to help me, but he’s too busy making up for lost time with Allison after their second break up.”

Derek stays quiet for a moment, nothing out of the ordinary, but Stiles glances up anyway to see Derek looking at him. Getting Derek’s undivided attention does things to Stiles, things he’d rather not admit to anyone, least likely to himself.

He wonders, not for the first time, what it would be like to always have Derek’s undivided attention. He can’t dwell on it long though, because Derek chooses that moment to speak up.

“I’ll help you.”

Stiles starts to laugh, because why wouldn’t he. It must be a joke. Derek helping Stiles, _voluntarily_ , yeah right. Right? But Derek’s not laughing, as a matter of fact he’s looking pretty serious.

“You? Helping me? Why?”

Derek goes through a mix of facial expressions so fast, Stiles doesn’t have time to catalogue any of them. The expression Derek settles on, is one that Stiles is very familiar with. A scowl.

“Because you want to get better and I want to help.”

“Yes, I am aware”, Stiles shakes his head. “The question is why you want to help me, Derek?”

There’s a long pause where Derek seems to work up to say something. He ducks his head and almost seems a little vulnerable. Stiles doesn’t know what to think of any of it, all he knows is that he very much likes to hug Derek.

“I know you can do this, Stiles. I want to help you get better at something you like”, Derek says and then after a pause, he adds. “Helping each other is what we do, isn’t it?”

Stiles ponders about it for a minute.

“This isn’t a life or death situation, though.”

“I prefer it this way.” Derek responds, his voice coming out softer than usual.

“Okay then!” Stiles claps his hands to get rid of the awkward tension that suddenly surrounds them. “The game is in four weeks.”

“Then we better get started. Meet me here tomorrow morning at seven sharp.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday!” Stiles squawks.

“I have a late shift at the station tomorrow, so the morning is the only time I’m available. Do you want to get better or would you like to warm the bench some more?” Derek asks, crossing his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow.

Stiles huffs. He does want to get better but he doesn’t have to be happy about it or Derek’s methods.

“Fine”, Stiles concedes with a sigh.

He’s about to take off when Derek speaks again.

“Wear your running shoes.” There’s a small smile playing around Derek’s lips. A smile that predicts nothing good for Stiles.

Stiles salutes to indicate he’s heard him and jogs back to the Jeep.

 

*

Stiles drags himself down the stairs at 6.30 the next day. The Sheriff almost chokes on his coffee when he sees his son fully dressed at this hour on a Sunday. He carefully sets his mug back down to regard his son.

Stiles sinks into the chair across his dad’s and reaches for the nearly full mug of coffee his dad just put down. He drowns it in large gulps and sets it down with an audible thud. He grabs the box of cereal and fills a bowl, drowns it in milk and starts shovelling it down.

“Son?”

“Dad.”

“Are you sick?” The Sheriff asks with a serious face.

“Ha ha, very funny, dad”, Stiles says around a mouth full of cereal. “Derek’s helping me with Lacrosse.” He says after he swallowed.

“I thought Scott was going to help you?”

“Apparently he’s preoccupied”, Stiles says sourly, getting up to put his bowl and spoon away. He claps his dad on the shoulder, grabs his keys and heads for the door.

“Tell Derek he’d better not be late for his shift!” His dad shouts after him.

When Stiles arrives at the Hale house, Derek’s nowhere to be seen. Stiles knocks on the door but he doesn’t get a response. The door is open though. Right when Stiles pushes open the door, he hears rustling behind him. He turns his head to see what caused the noise and there Derek is. Walking around the preserve, barefoot and only wearing boxer briefs.

Stiles swallows audibly. He opens his mouth to say something, anything really. But nothing comes out. So he just stands there openly staring at Derek. Almost naked Derek.

“Alright, Stiles”, Derek says, grabbing Stiles’ attention. “I’ve seen you play Lacrosse. You’re not bad, but you’re a little rough around the edges. For the next couple of weeks we’ll work on your stamina -“

“I have stamina!” Stiles interrupts hotly. “I have plenty of stamina, I mean when I –“

Stiles cuts himself off once his brain’s caught on where he was going with that sentence. He feels his cheeks go bright red. He clears his throat, looking back at Derek. The tips of Derek’s ears have turned a little red as well. Stiles smiles goofily and waits until Derek continues.

“Like I was saying,” Derek clears his throat, “we’ll work on your stamina and your aim. You should be fine, then. You know how to play tactical, you know how to dodge and duck, so there’s no need to go over that.”

Stiles nods firmly. “Right, Coach, so what do we do first?”

“We run.”

And just like that, Derek turns around and starts walking. “Keep your eyes on me and not the path we’re taking.”

“I’ll fall.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Hi, I’m Stiles. _Yes_ I will.”

Derek turns around again to face him. “No, you won’t. You’ll learn how to keep an eye on your surroundings. If you’re watching your feet, you won’t see anything or anyone else coming at you.”

And that, well that sounds pretty reasonable. Eyes on Derek at all times. It’s not really hardship either, if you ask Stiles.

He does have one question though, but before he can ask, Derek turns around again. This time he just steps out of his boxer briefs right in front of Stiles and throws them on the porch. Stiles is staring, mouth wide open, at Derek’s naked backside. But then in a blink, there’s a wolf standing in front of him. Stiles can’t deny, he’s a little disappointed.

Derek trots of at an easy pace, one that Stiles can easily keep up with. Derek looks back to see if Stiles is following. When he notices Stiles is looking at his feet he growls loudly. Stiles holds up his hands in a placating way and keeps his eye on the wolf after that.

After a while Derek picks up the pace and keeps going. And before Stiles notices it’s almost an hour later and they’re back at the house. Derek runs up the porch, shifting back as he goes and picks up his boxer briefs. Stiles doesn’t even have time to stare because he’s bend over, hands resting on his knees, breathing heavily.

“Go get your Lacrosse stick, I’ll be right back.” Derek says before disappearing in the house.

“Wha-?” Stiles heaves out. He drags his feet back to the Jeep to get his stick and the ball. By the time he’s back, Derek has put on shorts, a T-shirt and shoes. Once again, Stiles is just a teeny bit disappointed.

“What’s the paint for?” Stiles asks, nodding at the brush Derek is holding.

“This,” Derek steps to two trees standing about six feet apart. “Is your goal.” He brushes some paint over the tree trunks about six feet from the ground and then spans a rope between them.

“Now, go stand over there”, Derek points at the shed a little further. “And run towards the goal and score, while dodging these.” Derek places a couple of traffic cones haphazardly between the shed and the goal.

“I don’t think, you’re supposed to take those home.” Stiles muses.

“I didn’t, I coincidentally forgot to take them out of the cruiser yesterday after my shift.” Derek turns at him with a blinding smile that could easily get him a part in a toothpaste commercial.

“Now, go stand over there”, Derek says again.

“Jesus, dude, let me catch my breath for a second”, Stiles puffs, reaching for the bottle of water Derek brought outside along with the rest of his _training equipment_. He drowns half of the bottle and squirts the rest over his face. The cold water feels like heaven on his overheated, sweaty skin. Stiles grabs the hem of his T-shirt and wipes the water and sweat away.

When he’s finished, he sees Derek watching him intently. His eyes look a little darker than usual and he looks as if he’s subtly trying to sniff the air. And that’s a little strange, isn’t it? But stranger things have happened in Beacon Hills so Stiles just shrugs, grabs his stick and goes to the shed.

He waits for Derek to give him the go and then he’s running, dodging the traffic cones and when he comes as close to the goal as Derek lets him, tries to shoot the ball at the goal. Keyword being tries. Stiles watches the ball fly away, not even coming close to the goal. When it hits the ground, he turns to Derek giving him a bright smile and two thumbs up.

Derek snorts loudly, shakes his head and goes to retrieve the ball.

“Who says I don’t have an aim?” Stiles jokes.

“I have honestly no idea, your aim is perfect.” Derek deadpans.

Stiles just makes a face at him.

“Come on. Again.”

Stiles sighs and takes the ball Derek offers him. He walks back to the shed and runs back towards the goal, dodging traffic cones on his way. He does it again and again. And again and again. The ball hadn’t come close to the goal even once. Stiles heaves a sigh, leaning heavily on his lacrosse stick.

“This is useless!”

“No, it’s not!” Derek replies. “You just have to be patient.”

“What I need, is a better aim”, Stiles argues.

“Come here, we’ll try a different approach. We still have some time before I have to leave.”

Stiles stalks towards where Derek is standing, a couple of yards from the goal. He huffs an annoyed sigh. He’s tired, he’s sweating and he sucks at Lacrosse.

Derek walks around him, observing him. He kicks lightly at Stiles’ feet, as if to say he should spread his legs further. He shoves Stiles’ shoulder lightly and when Stiles stumbles, Derek catches him by the arms. He pulls Stiles back until he’s flush against Derek’s chest.

“You have to find your equilibrium”, He says lowly somewhere near Stiles’ ears, still holding him by his upper arms. “Even when you’re in full sprint, you have to take a moment to come to a full stop, assess the situation –“

Stiles feels Derek shift behind him. He’s setting his feet as wide as Stiles’, his arms sliding towards Stiles’ hands, grabbing the Lacrosse stick. They’re touching from shoulder to feet now, Derek’s head still close to his ear.

“- and then use your upper body strength to shoot the ball.”

Stiles sucks in a breath when Derek moves them, turns them and shoots the ball straight into the goal. Derek repeats the movement a couple of times and it gets harder to concentrate. Stiles can feel all of Derek’s muscles move against his back and dear God does that man have muscles!

“Okay!” Stiles shouts, moving away from Derek. “That’s enough for today, don’t you think. Because I do, think so, that is. Alright, see you next time, thanks for today!”

Stiles rambles on, gives Derek a pat on the shoulder and almost runs to his Jeep. He needs to get out of here, needs to get away from Derek and his super sniffer because the things Stiles is feeling right now, probably make him smell. And not like sweat.

 

*

The next four weeks go by in a blur of school, Lacrosse practice at school and training with Derek. Every day when he doesn’t have a practice at school and Derek doesn’t have a late shift, Stiles drives over to the preserve. He’s got a permanent spot for his duffel with extra Lacrosse gear in the back of the Jeep now. When he gets at the preserve, he puts on his running shoes and waits for Derek to shift into his wolf form and then they run for a good hour.

After that they work on his aim. Derek is usually the goalie but sometimes he plays the opponent, who likes to come all up and close to him. Stiles is getting used to all the exercise – his biceps are starting to get bigger, his abs are starting to show – and Derek getting close to him. Not that he minds the latter, he never did and never will. The first time it happened was surprising but pleasant. But now Stiles is actually enjoying the contact. Admittedly he has a pretty hard time suppressing his feelings – and in some cases his boner – and concentrating, but he hangs in there. He’s got a rule with himself; if he does well during practice he can have all the _alone_ _time_ he wants afterwards. If Derek is the subject of his well-deserved alone time, who’s there to judge?

But Stiles has to admit he is getting better. Derek’s method might even pay off, unorthodox as it might be sometimes. At Friday one week before the charity game, Stiles gets a text from Derek saying he has to do a double shift and he can’t practise with Stiles that night. To say Stiles is bummed, is an understatement, but at least Derek had a good reason to bail on him. A better reason than Scott anyway.

Stiles goes to bed that night feeling proud of himself for going running around the block and shooting some balls in the backyard on his own, keeping up with Derek’s training schedule. It’s late and he’s tired as hell when he finally crawls into bed and he falls asleep quickly.

A sound wakes him up a while later. It’s still dark outside and when Stiles blearily looks at his alarm clock it tells him it’s 3:16 in the morning. He smacks his lips together and shoves his face back in his pillow. A gust of wind breezes through the room, then, making Stiles lift his head from his pillow. He surely closed the window before he crawled into his bed.

Stiles stills when he hears another sound. It’s quiet again and then he hears a soft whisper.

“Stiles, wake up.”

Stiles blinks a couple of time, his brain slow to catch up what’s going on.

“D’rek?” Stiles slurs.

He pinches his eyes shut when the light is suddenly flipped on. And yes, that is definitely Derek standing in the middle of his bedroom. He’s still wearing his uniform.

“How’d you get in?” Stiles asks, sitting up and rubbing in his eyes.

“The window”, Derek points over his shoulder for good measure, as if to make sure Stiles knows exactly what window.

“Huh”, Stiles settles on after a while, idly scratching his chest. His naked chest, the one Derek is looking at right now and it’s only then that Stiles realises Derek is standing in his room when Stiles, himself, is completely naked. He flails a little and grabs his comforter and hoists it up ‘till under his armpits.

“Derek”, his voice cracks a little on the name, “what are you doing here in the middle of the night?”

“I came to pick you up for our training session. We’ll work some more on your stamina”, Derek says as if it’s a normal thing to do in the middle of the night.

“Now? It’s the middle of the night.”

Stiles may as well be talking to the wall because Derek isn’t listening. He has turned around and is going through Stiles’ closet to find a T-shirt and basketball shorts. He throws a pair of boxer briefs and socks at Stiles’ head as well. Then, Derek turns around and waits for Stiles.

“Dude, do you mind?” Stiles asks, rubbing his eyes with one hand and waving his boxers in the air to indicate he needs to get dressed. The tips of Derek’s ears turn delightfully pink as he awkwardly scratches at his neck.

“I’ll wait in the car.”

Five minutes later, Stiles plops himself in the car next to Derek. He shoots him a glare before sagging down and closing his eyes. The drive to the preserve doesn’t take all that long, _unfortunately_. Stiles follows Derek in the house and waits for Derek to change into other clothes. Or a wolf, because that’s who comes tugging at Stiles’ shorts.

“I’m up, I’m up”, Stiles tugs lightly at Derek’s ear and follows him outside. “I’m not sure how we’re going to run. It’s black outside, I won’t see a single thing.”

Derek lifts his head up a couple times and Stiles follows his gaze. The moon is bright that night. Stiles shrugs and gives Derek a pat on his rump. Derek starts easy, choosing to run next to Stiles this time. Stiles can feel him moving beside him and the swish-swish of Derek’s tail against his legs to assure Stiles he’s still there.

They run for over an hour, the sky turning lighter by the minute. It’s not sunrise yet but it’s getting close. Derek leads Stiles back in the house and up the stairs to his bedroom. Stiles is too tired to ask why. A sigh of relief escapes him when Derek pushes him into the bathroom with his muzzle.

Stiles quickly undresses and hops in the shower. He’s bone tired, his muscles ache and he just wants to sleep. The hot water running over his body and washing away the sweat makes him even sleepier than he already is. He shuts off the water and grabs one of Derek’s towels. It’s soft and fluffy. He lazily dries himself, when he thinks he hears Derek talk. He wraps the towel around his hips and steps out of the bathroom.

“Did you say something?” Stiles asks, leaning against the door jamb.

“I asked if you–“ Derek stops talking when he turns to face Stiles. His eyes flash bright red for a second and then it’s gone. It sets of a turmoil in Stiles’ stomach.

“If I what?” Stiles asks, trying to sound casual. As if Derek just didn’t set his body on fire when showing some alpha eyes.

“If you wanted a ride home”, Derek continues after a moment of silence.

“No way, dude, I’m sleeping over here. I’m not going anywhere! As a matter of fact, do you have some sweatpants I can sleep in? My clothes are all sweaty.”

Derek gestures to his closet in a ‘be my guest’ way. When he found something to sleep in, Stiles bids Derek goodnight and goes to the guest bedroom. He falls asleep in minutes.

When he wakes up hours later, it’s almost noon. The house is quiet and when Stiles gets into the kitchen the table is set and there’s a note from Derek next to the bottle of orange juice, saying he got called into work but that Stiles could have anything he wanted. Stiles smiles to himself and puts the note into his pocket.

Yeah, he’s definitely head over heels for Derek.

 

*

It’s the day of the charity game and Stiles is rereading the text he’d gotten from Derek earlier.

_Good luck tonight! You got it! Sorry I can’t make it to the game. Got called in for half a late shift. I wanna hear all about it! - D_

It’s a real shame Derek can’t make it to the game, Stiles could have used him as a good luck charm. But he’s going to go the extra mile, for himself but also for Derek.

Stiles straightens up when Coach Finstock walks in. He’s going to call the people who made first line. He must’ve seen that Stiles has improved over the past couple of weeks. But his name is not being called. Stiles heaves a sigh and scuffs the toe of his shoe over the floor. He follows the rest of the guys outside and walks straight to his spot on the bench.

He watches the game, but it’s not really registering in his brain. That’s why he almost misses Coach calling his name. They’re way into the second half now and it’s a tie.

“STILINSKI! Get your ass on the field!”

Stiles stares at Finstock. He jumps up from the bench when Finstock glares at him and tells him to get a move on. He grabs his helmet and stick while running on the field, all the while murmuring to himself ‘you can do it, you can do it, you can do it’.

The game is nothing more than a blur to Stiles. He hears the crowd screaming, he sees his team pass by, the other team blocking his way. He runs and dodges and with only 30 seconds to spare, Stiles suddenly catches the ball. He takes half a second to be surprised and then he starts to run.

The seconds tick by as Stiles runs towards the goalie. He dodges an opponent and then he stands eye to eye with the goalie of the opposite team. He thinks back to the first time Derek taught him. He imagines Derek standing behind him and whispering in his ear. _Set your feet, Stiles, use your upper body strength._

Stiles takes a deep breath and then shoots the ball. He watches the ball fly neatly in the net, just when the buzzer signals the end of the game.  It looks as if everything happens in slow motion then. He gets buried under his team mates, he hears the audience shouting and screaming. They’re singing his name, but all Stiles can think about is Derek.

Scott jumps on him when they’re standing again. “Come on!” He shouts, “Jackson is throwing a party!”

Stiles smiles at his best friend. “I can’t”, is what comes out of his mouth. “I need to go.”

“Stiles, come on, man!” Scott calls after him, but Stiles is already running to his Jeep.

He drives as fast as he’s allowed to – his dad’s on duty tonight and he doesn’t want to risk getting caught speeding - to the preserve. When he gets there he jumps out of the Jeep and runs to the door. He pushes it open and marches straight into the living room, where he hears Derek rummaging around. Stiles stands still for a moment, admiring the way Derek looks. He’s still wearing his uniform pants but he tossed the shirt over the back of the couch, so he’s only wearing a tank top.

When Derek turns around, Stiles runs towards him and flings himself around Derek’s neck. Derek, with all his werewolf strength and stability, catches him easily and hoists him up so Stiles can wrap his legs around Derek’s waist. Stiles beams at him!

“I DID IT! I played in the game _and_ I scored the winning goal!” Stiles exclaims, the beaming smile he gets in return is the best part of the night.

“Congratulations”, Derek says softly, staring up at Stiles. It’s suddenly one of those soft, quiet moments.

“All thanks to you.” Stiles says equally quiet.

“I only helped you get to the best of your potential.”

“Just say ‘you’re welcome’, Derek.” Stiles rolls his eyes a little, but he can’t hide the smile on his face.

“You’re welcome, Stiles.”

Derek smiles up at him and from this close Stiles notices that his eyes are impossibly green tonight. They stare at each other for a long moment. Then, Derek buries his face in Stiles’ neck and takes a very audible sniff.

Stiles nearly moans at the sensation.

“You have no idea, for how long I’ve wanted to do that”, Derek says, his voice sounding a little hoarse.

“I stink.”

“Not to me. You smell like freshly cut grass, a hint of lemon and happiness”, Derek says pulling his head back to look Stiles in the eye.

Stiles can’t take it anymore, Derek saying these things to him while Stiles has been fantasizing about this for so long, he just can’t. He leans down and presses his lips against Derek, who responds immediately and goes along willingly. Stiles wants more and opens his mouth to let Derek in. He’s starting to get hard and the feeling of Derek’s hands holding his ass is almost too much for him.

“Derek, Derek”, Stiles pants against Derek’s cheek. “Bedroom. Now.”

With an incredible show of strength, Derek throws Stiles over his shoulder, resulting in a grunt followed by a giggle from Stiles. He can’t believe this is finally happening! Not to mention he has a clear view of Derek’s fantastic ass. Stiles can’t resist to squeeze it tightly. In return Derek pulls down Stiles’ shorts and briefs just a little and nips at his butt cheek.

Stiles can’t help groaning at the sensation. He shoves his hand inside Derek’s pants and squeezes his ass again, a little longer this time. It causes Derek to stop for just a split second and take in a long shuddering breath. Stiles bounces on Derek’s shoulder when the guy runs up the stairs to his bedroom after that.

Derek puts Stiles back on the floor and moves in closer, only to back away immediately. Stiles reaches out a hand, confused as to why Derek’s backing away. He throws a questioning glance in Derek’s direction, but the other guy isn’t looking at him.

“Derek, wha-“, Stiles starts.

“Are you sure about this?” Derek cuts him off, a little roughly.

Stiles points a finger to his crotch. “What do you think, Derek?”

“No, I mean, ugh –“ Derek rubs a frustrated hand over his face.

“Derek,” Stiles takes a cautious step closer, as if he’s approaching a frightened animal, “I don’t know what you got in that pretty little head of yours, but if you don’t realize I want you, _all of you_ , you’re even more obtuse than I thought.”

Derek looks up at him and nods once. A more determined look in his eyes now he knows this is not just a hook up for Stiles. When he’s about to talk again, Stiles cuts him.

“Feelings talk later, sex first. Come on, Derek, I won the game! I ran here to tell you rather than go party with the team. Celebrate with me, man!”

Derek gets a grin on his face, his eyes turning red for a second.

“Now, kiss me”, Stiles says, spreading his arms and closing his eyes, waiting for Derek.

Derek moves towards Stiles, who’s still waiting with his arms spread wide although his eyes are open again. He takes slow but determined steps, until he stands toe to toe with Stiles, just watching him. They’re so close, only one of them needs to lean in just a tad and their lips will meet.

Stiles’ heart is beating like crazy. It’s really going to happen now and he doesn’t know what to do now. Should he make the first move or wait for Derek. But the thought leaves his mind when he feels Derek’s hand slide up his arm all the way up to his face, his eyes never leaving Stiles’. Derek cups Stiles’ face with both hands, nudging his nose against Stiles’ a couple of times before hovering his lips over Stiles’, lightly brushing his, barely there really.

Stiles can’t control himself and surges forward, connecting their lips properly. He throws his hands around Derek’s neck, holding on while Derek’s hands roam lower again. Stiles’ grip on the hairs on Derek’s neck tightens when Derek’s tongue slips in his mouth. Stiles fists the back of Derek’s tank with the other hand as he tries to get even closer to Derek.

Their hands start to roam all over each other on their own accord. Derek breaks the kiss momentarily to pull off his tank, his hands going straight back under Stiles’ T-shirt. He kisses along Stiles’ jaw and neck, fumbling with the hem of Stiles’ T-shirt. He tosses it aside when he gets it off and pulls Stiles flush against him.

Stiles’ mind is working overtime, as all he can process is the amount of hot skin he can feel against him. Yet it’s not enough. He sucks a bruise where Derek’s jaw meets his neck and watches it disappear. He pouts a little but it disappears instantly when Derek kisses his pout away. Stiles puts his hands on Derek’s chest, feeling his heart beat almost as fast as his own. He pushes away from Derek and takes his hand instead to lead them to the bed.

He crawls on the bed, kicking his shoes and socks off as he goes. They’re still wearing too many clothes and something needs to be done about that. He fumbles with the strings of his shorts in his haste to rid himself of his pants. He kicks off his shorts and boxers and splays himself over Derek’s bed. He catches Derek looking at him, pausing in his movement to get rid of his own pants. A sudden bout of confidence comes over Stiles and he smirks at Derek as he slowly trails his hands over his chest, pausing at a nipple to play with it and then moves down, keeping his eyes on Derek.

Before he reaches his destination, Derek catches his wrist. There’s a hungry look in Derek’s eyes as he shuffles down the bed and licks his lips. He surges up quickly to press a kiss against Stiles’ lips and then goes to business downtown. He licks the tip of Stiles’ erection and then all the way down.

Stiles watches him bop his head up and down a couple of times and then turns his head into the pillow and moans loudly. Derek’s mouth is a sin. Stiles grabs a fist full of sheets and tries hard to keep his hips still and not buck up into Derek’s mouth. He’s panting already, chest heaving up and down, his breathing shallow. 

Derek’s grinning when he pulls off.

“Not tired yet, are you?”

Stiles shakes his head, finding himself at loss for words for once, while he tries to catch his breath. He hasn’t even come yet. Derek pinches his nipple lightly, clearly enjoying the mix between a yelp and a moan that comes out of Stiles’ mouth. He rolls off Stiles for a moment to rummage in his bedside table. He tosses a condom and a bottle of lube on the bed, a clear question mark in his eyes.

“‘Wolves can’t catch or give diseases”, Derek says.

“We don’t need one”, Stiles says when he’s found his voice again, still panting a little.

“You sure?”

“Absolutely! Now sex me up, big guy!” Stiles grins, delighted at the huff that comes out of Derek’s mouth.

Derek leans down to kiss the grin of Stiles’ face and then dips his fingers in the lube and positions himself next to Stiles. He entangles their legs and reaches behind Stiles to ease a finger in. Stiles gasps at the sensation and squeezes Derek's biceps.

Derek kisses all over Stiles' face to distract him when he starts moving his finger. Stiles is eager to kiss Derek back, eventually even moving his hips along. Derek adds a second finger after a while and Stiles' breath only hitches for a second before relaxing again. 

He’s starting to enjoy himself thoroughly when Derek pulls his fingers back and sits up. He grabs the bottle of lube again. When he’s about to pour some on his fingers, Stiles stops him. Without a word he takes the lube out of Derek's hands and pours it on his own fingers, slowly but surely coating Derek’s dick in lube. 

Derek moans loudly, gripping onto Stiles’ hips. He’s moving his hands so slowly and Derek looks so on edge that Stiles wouldn't be surprised if Derek won’t take that long to come either if Stiles keeps touching him so lightly. Stiles is pretty pleased with himself when he hears the sounds Derek is making. 

He bites his lip waiting for Derek to make the next move. He’s really enjoying himself, so much he decides right then and there, they’re going to do this again, many times in many different positions. Derek positions himself between Stiles' legs, leaning forward on his elbows. Stiles spreads his legs further apart. He gasps when Derek brushes the tip of his dick against Stiles' oversensitive skin. Finally Derek pushes in and waits a bit. When Stiles nods, he pushes further until he’s completely inside Stiles.

Derek wraps his arms around Stiles, holding him close. Stiles' breathing is shallow, his eyes closed and a look of pain crosses his face. Derek leans down and sucks Stiles’ lower lip in his mouth, then kisses all over his face. He whispers filthy things in his ear trying to distract him. Tells Stiles how good he smells, how many times he just wanted to push Stiles against a tree when they were running in the woods, how his fingers and mouth are so distracting.

"It's okay. I got you, Stiles."

"Yeah! You can move now." Stiles breathes.

Derek moves slowly, trying to find a rhythm that works for the both of them. With every movement their kisses get sloppier and sloppier. Stiles is hanging onto Derek, mouthing more at his jaw than actually kissing him. Suddenly Derek sits up and grabs Stiles' thigh, hoisting it up a bit for a better angle.

"Fuck! Yes, there!" Stiles shouts out between heavy pants.

He tugs Derek down again, wrapping his legs tightly around Derek's waist, moving his hips up in Derek’s rhythm.

"Fuck! Yeah!"

Derek thrusts in harder and deeper now. Stiles scratches his nails over Derek's back, creating long red lines over his back, that disappear instantly. He arches his back of the mattress, letting out a loud moan and giving Derek the opportunity to suck a bruise on Stiles' collarbone.

Stiles shouts out Derek’s name when he’s close. Derek kisses Stiles feverishly when he spills his load between their stomachs. Derek's thrusts get sloppier and sloppier as he reaches his own climax. He thrusts in and out a couple of times after and then drops down on Stiles, both of them completely spent.

Stiles traces the outline of the triskele on Derek's back, while they lie in complete silence for a while. He’s tired, but so, so satisfied. Sex with Derek is everything and more, not that he has something to compare with, but it was definitely good. And Derek had been a real gentleman. Stiles can’t wait to do it again. As a matter of fact… He turns to face Derek, who’s watching him with sleepy eyes, with a shit-eating grin.

“I told you my stamina was great!”

Derek barks out a loud laugh before kissing the smirk of Stiles’ face.

 


End file.
